Page 105 of Bad Boy Next Door
Thirty
Jade
Iwoke alone in Nick’s bed. It was still dark.
“Nick?” I half whispered. He must have gotten up for a pee, but the sheets were cold beside me.
Starving, I realized we’d never gotten around to eating. Exhausted from the sex, we’d stumbled into bed and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
Maybe he’d gone out for food?
Grabbing my phone, I saw it was 4:30, and I texted him. No response. So I went to my place. He wasn’t there, so I plopped down on the couch.
His brother’s plan had been for tonight. Fuck. That’s why he’d brought up the money. He’d tried to persuade me—using my restaurant fantasy against me.
He’d gone. He’s done it. He’d chosen his brothers over me, over himself. He’d gone ahead with the plan.
My throat tightened, and I went back to his place, looking for clues, wondering whether I was just being paranoid, hoping he’d walk through the door any second to put me out of my misery.
I texted a few times. Then phoned. Nothing.
At five a.m. I decided to knock on Keagan’s door. Too bad if I woke him. If he was home, that meant my assumption was wrong.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Jesse was coming through that strange door in the corner, the one with the big no admittance sign.
The big man startled when he saw me.
“Hey, Jesse,” I said. “It’s just Jade.” The lights were off in his back corner of the ground floor, making his secret door even more mysterious.
He nodded. “You okay?”
“Just going to see if Nick’s at Keagan’s.”
Jesse shook his head. “The Downeys? They’re all out. Got a job tonight, so I heard.”
My throat finished closing. “Thanks,” I croaked out on my last bit of air, and then turned away from him, terrified I might cry.
Nick, you fucking idiot.What if he got arrested or hurt, or killed? If he lived through this, I’d kill him.
I sucked in a ragged breath. Disappointment, my devoted friend, entered along with the air, greeting me and trapping me in her heavy arms.
Ever since I’d realized I loved Nick, I’d been living in a fantasy, believing he was someone he wasn’t. That I was someone I wasn’t. I should have known better, should have expected this. Sooner or later, everyone disappoints you.
I could not, Iwould notbe with a criminal, or a liar, and Nick was both. I wouldn’t let that stuff back into my life. Never again.
Time for another moving day.
I sighed as I lugged myself back up to the third floor. I didn’t have a new place lined up, so I’d have to be even choosier than usual. Even fewer of my belongings would make the cut.
I should be grateful that this thing with Nick had ended quickly. At least we’d gone out on a bang instead of letting the relationship fade into something pale and wan.
Yes, as much as this hurt, it was better to take all my disappointment in one hard slam—like being knocked down in one punch—not like with Frank who I’d let raise my hopes over and over with his occasional contributions to the family income, his upbeat way of telling us about a great new apartment rather than admitting we’d been evicted yet again.
I’d never let any lovers disappoint me this badly; I’d never given any of them the chance. It had been hard for any of the men and boys to drop below my very low expectations bar.
But Nick. Like a fucking idiot, I’d let that bar rise. I’d let Nick see me, really know me, and I’d let hopes—even dreams—bloom beneath that bar. They were crushed now. Trampled into the dirt. The bar had crashed down to pulverize every plan I had for the future.
I packed my cast-iron pan first, putting it at the bottom of my only functioning suitcase. I’d thrown out the broken suitcase and the boxes—another sign I’d let my guard down. I packed my clothes and a few other things on top of the pan quickly, choosing only the essentials. I shook my head, thinking of all the furniture I’d bought and would have to leave behind. How could I have been so naïve? Had my life taught me nothing? Possessions were pointless. Trusting people even more so.
